


Firewall

by beaches_and_swords



Category: No Straight Roads (Video Game)
Genre: 1010 get gender natural pronouns and new funky names because I said so, F/M, Found Family, Heavy Angst, Mild Peril, Neon J has PTSD but he also has a good support group, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Rated T because they swear like sailors, Talk of how cyborgs work so yeah that adds, The main paring can be read as romantic or platonic, and Organs, everyone gets therapy, to the list but Ill let yall know which chapter is the rough one beforehand, trans rights baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29691162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beaches_and_swords/pseuds/beaches_and_swords
Summary: Tatiana Quartz knows that orderly communication is the only way to keep her once-proud city from yet another economic and social collapse. The wars at the border and turf squabbles between musicians are nothing but obstacles in the way of greatness and a bright city. She knows that establishing an organized governmental force for a steady supply of power and goods is what the city needs.As she collects a troop of developing AI and a bitter art school student for her plan, she runs into a familiar face from the past she tried so hard to push away.Well, not exactly a face. He doesn’t exactly have one of those anymore. However, the fact he would still follow her to the ends of the earth is an asset she's not quite sure what to do with yet.A.k.a. Tatiana and Neon J start one big angsty found family by slowly adopting 13 kids
Relationships: 1010 & Neon J. (No Straight Roads), Eve | Nadia & Neon J. (No Straight Roads), Eve | Nadia & Tatiana | Kul Fyra (No Straight Roads), Tatiana | Kul Fyra (No Straight Roads)/Neon J.
Kudos: 12





	Firewall

Tatiana didn’t know what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. Sure the shop was clean but it had clearly seen hard times. The singing bird mechanism that had hopefully announced her arrival to whoever was making noise in the back was certainly well made, but she had the feeling it had been sitting unsold for too long. It wasn’t like a lot of people bought homemade toys these days with the economy being what it was, but it still hurt in a deep, unspeakable way to see the place in such a sorry state.

When she was just starting out as Kul Fyra, about 17 years ago, she had played a concert just down the street from here. It had started to rain, and by rain, it poured buckets. Air Aqu saw a cool ballerina shaped music player in the window and dragged her, the rest of the band, and their slightly gushy new lackey inside. It was definitely a nostalgia trip, these were the kind of toys she had always wanted but were too expensive for her mother to afford, the kind she had played with at friends’ houses. 

The store owner, a talkative purple-haired old man, rambled on and on about the mechanics of the music player that Air Aqu was actually taking a severe interest in. A powerbox of almost infinite battery, the old man claimed, designed by his son. 

Tatiana vaguely remembered Air Aqu asking “Oh a family business? Your son works here too?” and the old man beaming with pride before yelling for the kid to come out and talk about his inventions. If Tatiana was who she was today, she would have just rounded up her bandmates and left. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and turned away only to stop short when a young man with a close-cropped fluff of pure white hair entered the room through the back door. He didn't even have to say anything, he just scanned the room, nodded to the jabbering toymaker, and stood behind the counter tapping his fingers on it nervously. 

Wow. He was incredibly pretty and if he didn't turn right around and leave, she was going to succumb to a pansexual panic.

The old man, even though he had called his son in, made no effort to stop talking. Instead, he rambled on about how talented the kid was and how he was going to be a great hero in the fight for freedom. His son just stood there looking mortified but also like he was trying to be polite. As his father eventually drifted to yammering about how the family business worked, he visibly relaxed. 

In a futile effort to distract herself from staring at him, Tatiana took to staring at her friends. Air Aqu, ever the social butterfly, was hanging on every word while Terra had gotten so bored she was sitting on the floor picking at the carpet. Ileron was completely lost in a mechanical puzzle they had found and Kliff was glancing from the genuinely creepy dolls in the one corner to the door as if making an escape plan should they come to life. 

At that point, the shopkeep said something that made Air Aqu laugh and the shopkeeper's son sighed heavily. She then realized he hadn't said a word the entire time he had been a part of the "conversation." She glanced over at him and, inexplicably, they locked eyes. His eyes were… incredibly colorful, a blue with golden flecks. She just knew there was something here, she couldn't quite pin it down.

“He doesn’t let you get a word in edgewise does he,” she asked, leaning her elbows on the counter. She had a suspicion this kid was shipping off to the Border Wars soon, but hell, he was cute and she might as well shoot her shot.

“No,” he said with a short laugh. “Believe me, I’m the same way sometimes. We’re just passionate.”

“About toy making.” Kliff was glaring daggers at the shopkeeper's kid now, whatever, she didn’t owe Kliff balls. The young man either didn’t notice her over-possessive shadow or didn’t care. 

“Gasp! You insult my father's business!" He squawked indignantly, but with a Cheshire grin. "For shame! It’s a very fine thing to be passionate about! Happy kids are the reason the earth  _ spins~ _ ”

He tacked on a sing-song musical finish. It was cute and incredibly cheesy.

“Oh really? So you want kids?” Looking back on it, that was one of Tatianas’ most embarrassing moments.

Thankfully the shopkeeper's kid didn’t appear to notice the very blunt flirt and obvious disregard of personal space. “I mean, someday I really want to adopt. There are so many kids put on the street by the war and by unaccepting families that need homes, I’d do anything to help them.” He sighed. “I miss when we would play basketball and have impromptu dance competitions in the alley, ya know? Now they just live there.”

He perked up a bit, realizing that the conversation had taken a dark turn. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get so gloomy. You’re in a band?” he asked, gesturing to their instruments.

“Yep, we’re The Goolings, ‘So Cool, You’ll Drool!’” 

There were a few seconds of silence. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. 

“...We’re still working on that motto. We just got done with a gig in Metro when it started to rain. What do you do?”

“...uhhhh I work in a toy shop?”

Maybe she was the biggest idiot on the planet.

“I- I meant, uh… your pops said something about your involvement in the war. Military?”

“Navy. I’m going to be shipped out as an MCQUH after training and adaptation, which usually takes about 3 years.”

Now that was a bit surprising. MCQUH’s, or Memory Cybertech Quasa Unit Hybrids, nicknamed the McWhuuuuuuht?'s by most of her peers, were new, top-notch cybernetically enhanced soldiers, their memories stored in drives. Not only were they able to receive and download information digitally and musically, but they could be “resurrected” or “downloaded” if their body became too damaged.

“Isn’t that super dangerous? You could be turned into one of those androids if you get hurt,” she asked, in a completely non-noisy manner.

He just shifted, maybe a bit uncomfortable. “I guess. To be honest,” he lowered his voice just a little bit, probably so his still chatting father couldn’t hear, “I don’t mind getting a fresh start on a body, especially if it feels more like me. I'm...uhh...”

Ah.

“If you're trying to say you're trans, I fully get it. I am too.”

His face was a picture of Christmas come early. "Oh! I kinda thought so! I mean, I didn't know for sure but I kinda… knew, if that makes sense?"

"Definitely."

What was it that Terra always said? Goes together, gays together? Something like that, referring to the fact that queer people would often gather in groups with other queer people. Almost like a real gay-dar, as ridiculous as that was

As if thinking of Terra was the bringer of bad luck, the drummer in question had just grabbed Air Aqu by the arm and dragged him out the door with Ileron in tow, Air Aqu vehemently promising to come back after his next paycheck. Kliff slunk out after them, looking moodier than the weather. Which from the looks of it had cleared up just enough to get home.

Tatiana sighed. Damn it.

“I suppose you have to get going,” he said.

“Yeah, that’s my crew. Stay safe out there, don’t completely blow yourself up, you might not be super hot anymore.” With that, she ran out into the rain. Maybe a little giddy. 

It didn’t take her long to realize she hadn’t gotten his name.

This shop was nothing like the one she had left that day. It still had the same name, Just 1 Toy, but nothing in here felt like the shop she had spent hours in when the beginning of her golden days as "The Great Kul Fyra." It wasn’t the same place she kept popping into to see the cute marine on his breaks from the grueling MCQUH training camps and surgeries. It still had a bit of that charm she remembered but it felt… dusty. Almost like her memories of The Goolings, laughing and kissing the toymaker's son, and the bittersweet break up before he left for good. It was as if everything happy was covered with a shadow. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to come here since the old man died and the store closed.

A figure moved to the doorway. An automaton, almost as tall as she was, boxy limbs, painted sailor uniform, bright white eyes glowing in the dark. One of the music bots from the Quasa. That’s what she was here for.

“Foreign Presence Detected: Friendly Greeting Engaged: Hello: Excitement,” It buzzed. Its voice was smooth but its speech patterns were choppy.

“I am Tatiana Quartz, the new head of Vinyl City. Do you have a creator or some kind of leader I can talk to? I must speak with them about what happened today with your performance at the Main Quasa.” 

The Grand Quasa was one of the city government-specific platforms, performers had to get specific permission from her to play there and when the news of some rogue group had been appearing illegally on the stage it had caused a stir. They were incredibly evasive and limber, what made it worse was that they were not afraid to fight her security bots. She knew she had to take matters into her own hands and caught them red-handed. Five androids with poppy funk songs and choreographed dance numbers, boy-band style. They were wonderfully good.

Too good. 

When they saw security, they took off and led her straight to memory lane.

If she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn the android flinched.

“Meeting With the General Requested: Admiral Status: Must Be Accepted.” It disappeared into the dark room in the back.

Not one to be held up, Tatiana followed. She was almost surprised to see light slowly flickering in the far back, power was in short supply these days. Mostly empty shelves lined the walls but cords and tools were everywhere. She knew that the stairway to the left led up to a snug little living area but the square of darkness was still a bit unsettling. Towards the back was a workbench, the single light bulb illuminating the strange shapes hunched around it. One of the sailor bots was on the table, an unrecognizable figure taking a welder to its arm. The other three bots stood nearby, almost as if they were assisting or interested in what was happening. It almost read as concern. One held an older camera model as if taking pictures of the work being done.

The one who had greeted her walked up to the tinkerer and repeated, “Meeting With the General Requested At 17:45: Admiral Status: Must Be Accepted.”

The figure jerked upwards, the other bots rattling along with them. The main figure almost looked like they were wearing a blast shield on their face or a square hat, there were no discernable features to be had. 

“What? She’s here?” The voice was masculine and snappy, but it was almost like it had been run through autotune and spit out a vague memory of what it used to be.

“Affirmative Sir: Audio File Accessed: Do you have a creator or some kind of leader I can talk to? I must speak with them about what happened to-” A ringing ping and then a loud alert echoed around the room as the bot immediately stopped. The sailor bots all turned to look at her, and she definitely knew there was fear in this room.

Before she could do anything, three things happened. The first was that the sailor bots jumped on top of and under the table faster than flies. The one with the camera wrenched it out of where it had been plugged in, as the cord smacked it in the face. The second was the main figure swung around, blowtorch in a defensive position, positioning themself in front of the rest. The third was her realization of why everything felt so wrong.

The mystery figure didn’t have a face. Nor did they have human limbs of flesh and blood. Staring her down, in an oil-stained apron and threadbare sweater with five large robots cowering behind them, was a military-grade radar screen poised on top of a shuttering android body. The dial pinged softly, no doubt locked onto her position, green revolving screen glitching ever so often, probably thanks to a large spider web crack in one corner of the screen. They held their makeshift weapon in shaking, mechanical hands.

She was struck dumb. The radar-headed technician was not; however, after a few moments of silence they asked the question that all of them must have been thinking. “Admiral Tatiana. Are you here to take my troops.”

She steadied herself, this was weird, yes, but she could deal. After all, this was Vinyl City, it tended to collect some of the weirdest characters from all across the radiation stained globe. 

“No.” The bots all relaxed a bit. “I want to buy them.” That sent the ringleader right back into defense position, the others just… tilted heads.

“Why.”

“Your… troops… powered the quasa to almost full capacity. With a little fine-tuning they could be a constant source of power for the city. I can’t do it all by myself and the indie artists just aren’t enough anymore, I need an organized force. The city would be eternally in your debt and you would be compensated greatly for your hard work.”

That seemed to surprise Radar. “You… liked their music?”

“If I liked it or not was not the question, they are efficient, that is all I need. Name a price.”

“No. They are all I have left.”

Tatiana sighed deeply. She didn’t have time to deal with this crazy old fuck. “Look, inventor, if I give you money for your goods, you can rebuild the shop. You can build more robots. I need those now.”

“They aren’t robots-”

“Androids, whatever, look I don’t have time.”

“Ma’am, you don’t understand!” They snapped, digital reverb echoing through the small room. “They can process memories! They are starting to process emotions and choices! They can do things that are not in their programming! They are turning into… into… people! I  _ can’t  _ sell them.”

Well, that was also new. Not too surprising, but new. She had heard of memories taken from human brains and put into machines, which is what she assumed had happened to Radar. Cyborg implants, MCQUH’s, “life-saving” surgeries. She had never heard of someone choosing such a strange form, but she doubted that they were completely sane anyway. But a robot gaining sentience? That sounded like a story for tabloids and strange science magazines.

She didn’t doubt it though. The way the bots would snap back and forth from being emotionless hunks of metal taking orders to acting out of instinct was unnerving. Which meant plan B. Whatever that was. Maybe… maybe she could make some kind of deal with them.

“Look, you seem…”  _ A bit bonkers? Strictly militant? _ “...orderly enough and commanding in your own way. How about we try to figure out a way we could work together.”

They slowly put down the blowtorch. “Really?”

“I could use your walking talking music boxes-

“My troops!”

“-whatever, and you could use a bit of financial help. I can employ you to manage the band and you get your bots to supply energy for the city. We both win, how does that sound… uh...”

Names. The bane of her existence.

“I don’t think I ever got your name, you obviously know mine, so my introduction will not be necessary.”

They tilted their head/face/screen/whatever a bit to the side, radar spinning rapidly. “I don’t actually have one anymore. Most personal information is programmed to be wiped when compromised.”

One of the androids beeped and Radar jumped a bit.

“Oh! Yes, thank you 104, we have managed to figure out that my family name was Jae, so that works for now ma’am.”

It all hit her all at once. 

Good old Mr. Jae was always so kind and friendly, he definitely talked a lot but she always felt loved in his house. He told her several times he used to be a very talented musical engineer but quit his job to open a toy store with his wife, their little Just 1 Toy. The store had always made him so happy, he used to say his wife's spirit was still in every toy they made and then crack a joke about how he saw her in their son’s eyes while the young man ignored him in favor of devouring his dinner.

Those high up bastards in the navy broke them both. It had been hard enough watching her closest companion smile with bags under his eyes to keep her from worrying, scratch the scarring around the cybernetic wiring stitched into his skin raw from anxiety, and stop just short of voicing regret about his decision out of fear they would know. But she boiled over with rage when they didn’t even come in person to tell the old man his son was gone.

It was the last time she had been in this room, she had held Mr. Jae while he sobbed, feeling nothing but dread as she read and re-read that emotionless notice,  **MIA: ASSUMED DEAD** , printed in big bold letters. Ship sunk off the coast of enemy territory; no bodies found, plus a full trek through hostile land for survivors. They had the nerve to go into detail about how MCQUH’s who were captured usually ended up in The Wire Straights and how it was reported no one came out of those prison camp facilities in one piece. He just lost his only child and they wrote about this nasty mad scientist of a creature and how prisoners left more frankensteined machines than man if they left at all. It had made her sick and so very angry. She never saw Mr. Jae's real, kind smile again.

She couldn’t breathe. 

It all made sense and she was the densest mother fucker on the planet.

She had to get out of here, this musty old shop with those glowing eyes focused on her, she couldn’t stand to see him like this, her friend reduced to a rattling corpse. She turned promptly on her heels and staggered out of the backroom, gasping for breath. She leaned up against the counter, a million memories and thoughts winding their way through her skull like marbles on a toy coster.

He didn’t even remember his name. He didn't even have a face anymore. What sick fuck would do something like that to someone.

She could hear the scrape and clink of several hurried metal footsteps as he popped out after her, the camera held gingerly in one hand as he plugged the wire into a port on the side of his head. His bots peered out of the darkness in a vertical line, like a bunch of wacky cartoon characters stacked on top of each other.

“Ma’am, wait! If that’s a problem, you can call me something else! Names are like clothes, wear them for a while and replace them! I can fix that, we’re happy to serve!”

She just stared at him, an empty depressing weight in her stomach.

“Admiral Tatiana? Is there a problem?” he asked as she took in what he was now in a closer and different light.

There was a few seconds of silence.

“Hold on,” he said, talking quickly and frantically. “I can’t see whatever is happening, radar just tells me where physical objects are, so I'm just going to snap a quick picture for reconnaissance. After you surprised me I've been keeping an eye on my scans, no intruders except for yourself, ma’am. We should be safe, my troops are well-armed. Plus I'm a bit of a weapon myself.” A click. “Ah, here we go. It'll take a second for this to reach me, you’ll have to tell me verbally if there's-”

“Khalid, what did they do to you.”

He froze. Even his screen glitched violently for a fraction of a second. “I- what?”

“Your name was Khalid. You used to make sandwiches and we would climb up the fire escape to eat them on the roof. You used to be late to dates because you lost track of time playing with kids who came into the store. We used to slow dance to rock music because it made my friends so mad.”

“Y- how?”

“I’m Kul Fyra, your Kul Fyra. You came to as many of my concerts as you could, even the one right after you got out of surgery and you were so doped up on painkillers you kept requesting us to play poppy boyband tunes and  _ Waltz of the Flowers _ at a rock concert. You were our replacement sound guy at our first performance at the Natura Concert Hall and even though you were so stressed out about it that you threw up in a trashcan, you kept right on going. Hell, you crafted my trademark guitar and used it to ‘ask me out,’ even though we had been dating for a month.” She was almost pleading at this point but she didn’t care. “Do you remember me? Even a little bit?”

He was so still, so quiet. The only sound was the faint pinging of his radar.

“I- I said I was making that guitar to celebrate your city gig in the Evenfall Gallery.” He said quietly. “I had always dreamed of being in their dance troop and performing on that stage. I was more excited about it than you were. You told me that was the stupidest thing to fashion you a guitar, but still came in to help me with the blueprints and said what you wanted. When I gave it to you and asked you if you wanted to be official, you laughed, you had thought we already were.”

“But you wanted to be traditional.”

“I also wanted to publicly and subtly tell that one guy who was always bugging you to fuck off.”

She laughed, a sad laugh yes, but genuine. When was the last time a laugh of hers was genuine? “Kliff. He was livid. Talked shit about you to the rest of the band for weeks.”

“And I didn’t care, why would I. It meant the world to hold your hand. God, I’m so sorry, names and faces got erased, I would've never figured out who you were-”

“I’ve changed almost as much as you, I think,” she said sadly. “This name and face aren’t what they used to be.” 

“I suppose we both have that problem. It's nice to talk to you again, I thought I lost you completely.”

“I thought that too”

She slowly reached out, fingertips softly touching the surprisingly warm metal of his hand. He gently took it. His hands were still just a little bit smaller than hers and finally, something felt right.

**Author's Note:**

> Our friends have all but left us, they departed many years ago - Hungover in the City of Dust - Autoheart
> 
> Whoops! I saw that No Straight Roads had *several* bitter and feral parental figures (my favorite character type) and was dragged into the sewer that is hyperfixation.
> 
> I absolutely love the idea of Tati and J having this "Megatron and Soundwave" relationship and as they are around the same age, I thought, "huh, what if they knew each other before shit went down?"  
> Boom.  
> One rare pair, so many adopted kids, so much worldbuilding, a bunch of Goolings headcanons later and I'm posting this bitch. 
> 
> Enjoy the truckloads of angst I'm about to dump onto the internet about two old assholes.


End file.
